For the second night in a row, Bear (hereafter referred to as the Obnoxious Little Snot) has had a bath and I have swept and mopped the kitchen. Guess why? Go on guess... well, it seems the Obnoxious Little Snot has figured out a way to get to the rather large rubber tree plant sitting safely out of range in the kitchen. Never mind that there is absolutely NO WAY according to all the known laws of physics for the OLS to actually reach the plant. Never mind that I detest mopping the kitchen and the OLS is fervently opposed to baths of all sort. Never mind that the sole reason the rubber tree plant is sitting on a chair in the kitchen looking stupid instead of sitting on the floor in the den looking decorative is that the OLS has a distinct fondness for chaos, digging in particular. Oh no. The OLS has to go and figure out a way to access the rubber tree plant and the dump truck load of dirt that apparently fits in the planter. And then has the thought to spread it artistically about the white kitchen linoleum. Not only is it a metric ton worth of dirt, but it's very nice potting soil with the consistency of dryer lint. "Fine" does not even begin to describe it. And the OLS thinks it is a fine new toy within which to frolic. Down to the root ball we've excavated. On top of that, now the OLS is zinging out from under the computer chair to bite me on the ankle because he's mad about the bath. Like it's my fault muddy potting soil is glaring apparent on a white ferret. Like I shouldn't notice. Dum dee dum, nope I don't see the trail of muddy footprints across the bathroom floor and the peat moss on the whiskers. And sure, your little pink nose has a great tan now. I'm sure that's it. Why can't they learn to run the vacuum instead? Anne Four Little Angels (for now) and the Obnoxious Little Snot [Posted in FML issue 3394]